The Haunted Abbey
by J.S.O
Summary: (COMPLETE) Based on the game by STCP; one young mouse stumbles across a haunted Abbey similar to Redwall. He must free the souls from their eternal torment.
1. The Nightmare Begins

Disclaimer: Redwall isn't my property. Neither are these characters. They were all created by Slagar the Cruel of Slagar the Cruel Productions. His site can be found at stcp.vze.com. This short novel (it probably doesn't even count as a novel, but it has chapters, so for the sake of this disclaimer we'll call it a novel) is based on his short (but nonetheless intensely fun) downloadable video game called The Haunted Abbey. If you haven't beaten it yet, reading this novel would help you a lot with the game. If you're a gaming purist, however, you don't want to know what happens before you figure it out for yourself. So I urge you: if you don't want the game spoiled for you, then don't read further.  
  
Chapter 1: The Nightmare Begins  
  
A shiver ran down the young mouse's spine as he perched himself upon a boulder in the middle of a woods that lonely October night. He breathed hard. He had walked all the way from Castle Floret, that thriving capital of the Southwest, nearly a week's march from his current location.  
He was on his way to a place that he had heard about in bedtime stories as a young one: Redwall. At the moment however, he was on his way to an inn to meet his friends who would be going with him on the journey. They had just been getting off a ship, having been put fighting searats.  
Suddenly, the mouse's ears perked up. He looked around. There was a straining in the wind just across the path, as though it were blowing through something. That's odd, the mouse thought to himself. I didn't know of anything around here...this area of the woods has been deserted for a very long time. There was something here once, I remember...but it was destroyed. Yes, that was it. It can't've been anything.  
Overcome with curiosity, the mouse got up off of his perch to investigate. He had been off the path for five minutes only when he saw it, looming up off the path...a gigantic stone building. The mouse was engulfed in shadow. Seeing the gates slightly ajar, he walked through. Perhaps I can find shelter here for the night, the mouse thought. That hare gave me terrible directions. I know that inn is around here somewhere...yes, but it's very late. I think I'll sleep here for the night. Perhaps there are kind beasts and good food.  
Entering the gates, he looked up. A gigantic stone door stood in the way, barring his path. A stone arch stood above the door. At the peak of the arch was an inscription: Soilran Abbey. That must've been what was in this area, the mouse thought to himself. Huh, this is odd. Nobeast is coming out to greet me, and there's no sound from inside. Oh well.... Gripping the handle, he pushed inside.  
Darkness greeted him. He heard a noise behind him; wheeling around, he saw that the door had shut tightly behind him. What in the world? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, the mouse thought. Either way, there's no turning back now. A gatehouse lay to the right, and the mouse decided that checking that would be best. That's right, he assured himself, the Gatekeeper will tell me everything I need to know.  
Upon entering the Gatehouse, however, the young mouse was not told everything by the Gatekeeper. In fact, the place was completely deserted. To the left was a desk and chair, both of them covered in cobwebs. Upon the desk were clumps of what appeared to have been paper. It wasn't anymore though, just yellowed clumps of cobweb-covered material. Next to the paper lay a pen, which actually looked quite new when juxtaposed with the paper. To the right were a set of cabinets.  
Curiosity overtook the young mouse once again; he immediately went over to the cabinets and opened them. Inside, he saw a mass of yellowing and decaying papers. There was one paper, however, that stood out from the rest. It looked relatively new. Picking it up, the mouse turned it over and read it. It appeared to be some sort of stationery. It was completely blank, except for the top, which was adorned with a single R. Frowning, the young mouse pocketed the parchment...it might come in handy at some point, he thought to himself.  
Completely creeped out by the place, the young mouse left the gatehouse. This place is deserted, he thought to himself. The whole Abbey. They're all gone. Where could they all have gone, leaving the Abbey in this condition? Ahead, he saw the main building looming; he veered straight for it. His rationality was kicking in now. No, no, he told himself. There's no way this place is deserted. They're probably all in the main building, extremely quiet.  
He pushed the main doors ajar, and the sight that he saw made him jump. There were no beasts in here. There was nothing, in fact, in the entire main hall except for three overturned and rotting tables. Across from the main doors there was a courtyard; to the right a huge staircase spiraled upwards, revealing that there must be some sort of second floor. On the right side of the room was a doorway.  
Moving into the room, the young mouse examined the tables more closely. There were arrows embedded in them, and the wood was slashed. A struggle took place here, the mouse concluded. In the midst of the tables was a mantelpiece with a skull motif carved upon it. There was some sort of writing all over its sides.  
The young mouse hurdled the tables and broke into an all-out sprint towards the courtyard. Wherever he was, he sure as heck didn't want to be inside this place.  
Skidding to a halt in the courtyard, the mouse saw three different options. There was an orchard, a pond, and a maze. A maze! the mouse thought excitedly to himself. It must lead to a way out! Breaking into a sprint again, the mouse ran into the hedges. Leaning into the corner, he peeled right immediately. He ran until he hit a hedge.  
"Woah!" he exclaimed as he slammed into it full force, falling down. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, the young mouse looked around. He ran to the right again, but soon ran into a dead end.  
Going back to where had fallen down, he turned left. He kept running until he nearly hit another hedge; his speed, considerable before, had been multiplied by a large coefficient. That coefficient was fear.  
There was only one direction he could go: left. Again, he broke into that dead sprint. He shot past a turnoff without a second thought, slamming into another hedge a couple of seconds later.  
Shaking himself, he turned and headed back towards the turnoff he hadn't taken. He went through it. Though the path twisted and turned, it stayed true; there were no turnoffs.  
Suddenly, the mouse pulled up. He had reached a turn. Leaning left, he started to break into a run again. As soon as he started, however, he stopped. Looking to his right, he saw a boathouse. Perhaps I might find something to help me get out in there, the mouse thought.  
The house was in a terrible state of decay. In it was an upturned boat. Lifting it up a little, the mouse was disappointed to find only worms and grubs underneath. Letting the edge of the boat down again, the mouse looked around. Upon one of the shelves lay an exceptionally well- crafted fishing rod.  
Being a bit of an angler himself, the mouse took it eagerly. I might not be able to fish here, he thought, but at least I have something to show for this stupid idea.  
Leaving the boathouse, the mouse took a left to continue in the direction he had been going. Soon, he came to a gate. He could see the lever that controlled it atop the hedge. Beyond the gate was a pond, surrounded by some sort of dirt field. Maybe I can fish here after all, the mouse thought. Hey, that's right, he said to himself. I saw this pond before I entered the maze.  
Taking his fishing rod, he tried to recall all of the skill that had made him so admired back at Castle Floret. Zip...thunk! His cast was true, and he caught the lever. Giving it a tug, he opened the gate and strode out into the dirt.  
The water was completely stagnant. Is there anything in here? the mouse thought to himself. Picking up a clump of dirt, he hurled it into the pool. Some bubbles rose to the surface. That's odd, the mouse thought. Nothing could be living in that water. Well, I guess something has to be, if bubbles come up. I'm gonna catch it.  
Casting his line into the water, the young mouse sat down to wait for his quarry to bite. He knew he didn't have any bait, but he figured that whatever it was must be so hungry that if he just moved the hook around a bit it would bite.  
Looking up, the young mouse could make out a sign in the darkness. It ran thus: "WARNING. SOME BIG FISHES ARE RAISED IN THE POND FOR FEASTS. STAY AWAY FROM THE POND." Hah, the mouse thought to himself. Not too big for me to catch!  
Suddenly, the young mouse felt something that made his heart stop. Something was tugging on his line. He hadn't really expected to catch anything in the stagnant water. Reeling in, he saw something that made him scream as he'd never screamed before. The skeleton of a horribly animated pike had bitten his hook. The huge fish wriggled free, but began circling, as if to attack.  
As if one of the monsters wasn't enough, several other fish could be seen below the surface. Gulping, the mouse knew they were coming for him. He turned to run, but somehow the gate had shut again.  
Palms sweating, he grasped his fishing rod. A pike made a beeline for him. As it broke the surface, he cast at it, leaping away at the same time. The hook caught the fish's mouth, and it dissipated.  
Another fish dived. Catching it in the same way, he watched as it dissipated just as the first had. He repeated this process two more times. Finally, there was only one pike left.  
It dived. The young mouse cast, but missed. The pike returned to the center of the pond, circling. It dived again. This time, the mouse's cast was true, and he caught the pike by the jaws. Wrenching it out of the pond, he dropped it onto the ground, where it ceased to move and became naught but a skeleton.  
Emerging from the pike came something which took the young mouse's breath away. The ghost of a hedgehog came out of the skeletal remains of the pike. Struck dumb, the mouse listened as the hedgehog spoke, more to himself than to the mouse, who sat open-mouthed, gaping in horror.  
"I was running...from the vermin...I thought I could find some sort of refuge in the Courtyard. I was running so fast that I slipped and fell headfirst into the jaws of those fishes. I suppose I was lucky, though...while I had already been hit by the bonding of souls, I had escaped the bonding of wills...the terrible curse not even these fishes could avoid." He paused, and suddenly stared straight at the young mouse.  
He would have jumped with fright, but he was already scared to his limit. He stayed perfectly still as the hedgehog spoke. "Perhaps you will be the one who will lift our curse. In that case, I shall provide what aid that I can." The hedgehog vanished, leaving behind only a single bronze key.  
Taking a deep breath, the young mouse picked it up, and stepped back into the Courtyard. 


	2. The Spirit Bow

Chapter 2: The Spirit Bow  
  
Upon returning to the courtyard, the young mouse decided to have a look around the orchard. As soon as he stepped into the place, he reached a new level of depression and hopelessness. All he saw upon first glance were several dead, leafless trees, rotting where they stood. On closer inspection, however, the mouse saw that there was, in fact, something in the orchard aside from the trees. A patch of pumpkins, not dead but very much alive, sat directly across from him.  
That's extremely weird, the mouse said to himself. There can't've been any beasts here in forty seasons. How could there be new pumpkins? Crossing the orchard, he bent to take a closer look at the plants.  
He was soon distracted, however, by the rustling of the wind. Looking up, he saw a paper in one of the dead trees. Taking out his fishing rod, he jumped up, poking the paper off the branch upon which it was caught.  
It fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, the young mouse realized it was exactly the same as the other piece of parchment he had in his pocket. It was completely blank except for a single R at the top. Pocketing it, the mouse left the orchard.  
What do I know about hedgehogs? the mouse asked himself. Anything...anything....well, they know a good bit about brewing drinks. Yeah, I remember, in the tales of Redwall I always heard, they had something called a "Cellarhog." Oh, and this place...yeah, everything makes a little more sense now. This place was supposed to be just like Redwall.  
The mouse shuddered. I hope Redwall hasn't ended up like this, he thought to himself. Then he shuddered again. This must be some sort of key for the cellars. Oh no. I have to go down to the cellars of this place? Well, the hog said he'd try to help me. Guess this means I'll have to go back to that creepy main hall.  
Taking a deep breath, the mouse strode across the courtyard and into the main building. Once inside, he ran his eyes quickly over the tables and the skull mantle to the door on one side of the room. Probably to the kitchens, he thought. Well, maybe there's a way to get to the cellars from there.  
He ran towards the door, which indeed did lead to the kitchens. Once inside, he saw the sorry state of disrepair that had overtaken the whole Abbey rear its ugly head once again. He almost wept, for it looked as though it had been so happy and productive at one point. Not anymore, though. The kitchen utensils had become so badly decayed that they were useless. The ovens charred and decaying contents made the young mouse heave as though to vomit. At the other end of the room from whence he entered, he saw a door.  
That must lead to the cellars, the mouse thought. Yes, there's barely any light coming from it. Wait, there shouldn't be any at all. No moonlight should get to the cellars. Either way, might as well try this key.  
Striding purposefully to the door, the mouse fitted the key into the keyhole. It slid in without any trouble. Turning the key, the mouse heard a click. Cautiously, he pushed open the door.  
A long set of stairs descended downward, leading the mouse to believe that he had been right. He gulped. What good could possibly come out of his going down there? It was unbelievably cold, and there was barely any light. Going into the dark with ghosts around? How smart was that?  
The hog said that he'd help me, the mouse told himself. He gave me a key that leads down here. Maybe there's something down here that'll help me. Steeling himself, he descended the stairs into the freezing cold of the cellars.  
There was no moonlight at all in this lowest level of the Abbey. In fact, the mouse wouldn't have been able to see an inch in front of his nose if it wasn't for two candles on either side of the room. Must've been that hog, the mouse thought to himself. Maybe he really will help me out.  
There were several barrels in this room. Examining one, the mouse found that they contained wine. His guess had been right. The hedgehog that he had seen had been the Abbey's Cellarhog.  
Squinting, he could just make out another door at the other end of the room. Whatever I'm down here for must be in there, the mouse thought. Nothing in here but barrels and barrels of wine...and now's no time for drinking!  
Moving fairly quickly across the cellars, he came to the other door. This one wasn't locked. The young mouse pushed inside.  
It was an armory. Hanging all over the walls were swords, shields, spears, and slings...not to mention a few suits of armor. Whatever it is that's haunting this place, the mouse thought to himself, I can't harm it with a simple blade.  
Looking up to his right, the mouse saw the edge of something protruding from the shelf. What could that be? he thought. Maybe it's something the hog just put there that could help me. Or maybe not. Whatever it is, I'm going to find out. Taking his fishing rod once again, he cast it at that shelf, knocking the contents onto the floor. The sound made him jump, half-expecting to see spirits rushing to attack him. None came, however.  
Bending over, he saw what he had knocked down: a bow and a quiver of arrows. He picked the bow up. There was an inscription upon the handle. "With the Spirit Bow, one can pierce not only the flesh, but the soul, of the hostile".  
Hmm, the mouse thought to himself. If that's true, then maybe this is what I need to ward off whatever it is that's haunting this place. He tied the quiver to himself and slung the bow across his back. His archery skills were a little rusty, but nevertheless, he could still defend himself with a bow as well as the next mouse.  
Looking around the room again, he saw that there was another door on the other side. It was slightly open, and because he had left the other door open he could still see by the candle light. The other room appeared to be some sort of archery range. Well, the mouse thought, I could use some practice if I'm going to be using a bow to defend myself for the duration of my stay here. He headed for the archery range.  
Stepping inside, the young mouse was overwhelmed by the stench of death. There was a note on the floor in front of him. Hastily scribbled and somewhat faded upon the yellowing parchment was the following message: "WE HAVE BEEN MAKING OUR FINAL STAND AGAINST THE VERMIN IN THE ARMORY. THEY HAVE FINALLY FORCED US INTO THE ARCHERY RANGE, WHERE WE HAVE BLOCKADED OURSELVES IN. OUR DEATHS ARE ASSURED, BUT WE SHALL TAKE MUCH OF THE SCUM WITH US."  
Looking up from the morbid note, the mouse saw many ghostly vermin, as well as a few spectral Abbey defenders, swarming maliciously around the room. Unslinging his bow, the young mouse fitted an arrow to the string. It appeared he had another fight on his hands!  
A stoat dived toward him. The mouse let fly his arrow. It flew straight and true...piercing the spectral stoat right where a living stoat's heart would have been. Surprisingly, upon being hit the stoat seemed to scramble away and vanish into nothing, almost the same way the pikes had dissipated after being hooked with his fishing line.  
Taking a step backward, the mouse let fly another arrow, this one flying straight through a rat, a mouse, and a fox before hitting the bulls- eye on one of the archery targets on the other side of the room. All three spirits fled.  
The mouse nodded grimly to himself, leaping aside as the spirit of a rat flew past him into the other room. He started to fire more rapidly now, taking out as many five spirits with a single shot. He knew that he could have done even better had he not been so out of practice.  
Suddenly, a hare dived at him. The malicious expression on the goodbeast's face was almost too much for the young mouse to bear. What horrible creature could have taken the soul of a hare and turned it into a mindless killing machine?  
Letting fly, the mouse struck the hare dead on with another arrow from his Spirit Bow. It fled and vanished, just as the other spirits had.  
  
Looking up, the mouse noticed that there were very few spirits left in the room now; he had made a serious dent in their numbers.  
Looking back to the spot where he had hit the hare, the mouse noticed that the hare had left three things behind: a decayed old bow, some bloody shreds of clothing, and a brass key.  
Moving quickly, the mouse snatched the key. Looking up, he saw that the room had begun to fill again with the spirits of the vermin. I'd better get out of here, he thought. Whatever damage this bow does to the spirit doesn't seem to be permanent.  
Pocketing the key, reslinging the Spirit Bow over his shoulders, and stopping only to pick up the arrow he had dropped when running out to get the key, the young mouse sprinted from the room. Back through the armory, back through the cellars, up the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the main hall.  
Panting extremely hard, the young mouse wheeled around to see that the spirits of the vermin hadn't followed him. Apparently, they hadn't wanted a second piece of the Spirit Bow. The mouse smiled to himself. He had found a weapon to defend himself. Everything seems less scary when you have a weapon to defend yourself.  
I'll explore upstairs next, he thought confidently. Striding purposefully to the spiral staircase, the young mouse felt a new resolve. Whatever this haunted Abbey could throw at him, he had something with which to fight back: the Spirit Bow. 


	3. The Horde Leader

Chapter 3: The Horde Leader  
  
Stepping off the final stair, the young mouse found himself on the second floor of the deserted Abbey. He felt as though he was being watched. Touching the bow on his back to make sure it was still there, the mouse looked around.  
Across the hall there were two doors. One was open, leading to an extremely dark room with an organ. Possibly the study of someone important? the mouse asked himself. Whatever, doesn't look like that room'll be of much use to me.  
The other door was closed. Above the door handle was a keyhole. The mouse reached into his pocket and felt for the key the ghost of the hare had dropped when fleeing his Spirit Bow. This key must lead to that room, the mouse thought. Yes, that's very likely. It's the only place I haven't been.  
Gulping, he looked up, as if for some sort of reassurance from on high. What he saw were the rusty hinges to an attic. Once again, he pulled out his fishing rod. Thunk! His cast was true, and he caught the attic door-handle. He tugged. The door didn't budge.  
Frustrated, he unslung the Spirit Bow. Pulling back, he fired an angry shot into the door, muttering to himself. For some reason, he felt that the attic might hold the key to this mysterious puzzle. Thud! The arrow hit the door with such force that it was knocked upwards, falling into an open position. An old rope ladder fell from the attic.  
Grabbing the ladder, the mouse ascended into the attic. It was pretty dark up there. Looking around, the mouse could make out something in the rafters. As he was about to step out, however, he looked down at the floor. It looked extremely unstable.  
Best not to test it, the mouse thought to himself. Pulling out his fishing rod, he cast it at the roof beam on which the object, which he could now make out to be a sheet, was perched. The rod knocked the parchment into the air and - miraculously - it fluttered right to the young mouse. He looked at it.  
It was blank, except for a single R adorning the top. He pocketed it along with the other two he had collected.  
Descending the rope ladder (there was nothing else for him to see here), the mouse went back to the second floor, closing the door behind him. Gulping, he moved toward the closed door with the keyhole.  
Slowly, he removed the brass key from his pocket. Fitting it carefully into the keyhole, he cautiously turned, and was rewarded with a click. The door had opened! Steeling himself, the mouse entered the room.  
The room seemed to have at one point served as a dormitory. The first thing the young mouse noticed, however, was a skull mantel, nearly identical to the one in the main hall. There was something the mouse didn't like about those mantels, especially the writing on their sides. They seemed...sinister, in some way.  
The mouse took his eyes away from the skull mantel and looked around the room. Above the beds was something that forced the mouse to repress a scream. There were ghosts, floating above the beds! However, their eyelids were shut; they didn't seem to have noticed the mouse.  
On the other side of the room was another thing that forced the mouse to repress a scream...a scream of joy! It was a door, onto some sort of balcony. Perhaps it led to a way out!  
To get to it, however, the mouse knew he would have to get past the sleeping ghosts. Somehow, he felt they wouldn't sleep for long once he ventured near them.  
But I have to get out of here, he told himself. Running his fingers over the arrows in his quiver, he stepped out into the room.  
Fitting an arrow to the string, he let fly at one of the sleeping ghosts. Nothing happened. Maybe the spirits have to be awake to flee the Spirit Bow, the mouse told himself. Nothing for it now....  
He broke into a dead run. As soon as he passed within three feet of the closest ghost, it sprang to life; its evil red eyes showed none of the mercy and kindness they would have shown had it been the same beast it had been in life. The young mouse, however, had no time to feel sorry.  
The ghost tore at the flesh on his shoulder. Looking down, the mouse saw he had suffered no injury, yet the pain was greater than any he had ever felt in his life. It felt as if his very core was being gnawed at.  
Dodging ghosts, and only receiving the occasional bite, the mouse sprinted through the dormitories. Still at a dead sprint, he flung himself out onto the balcony.  
At last, freedom...or perhaps not. Upon second examining, it appeared that the balcony was much higher than the young mouse had originally estimated. He knew he would certainly die if he jumped. Turning to head back and face the dormitories again, the mouse put his hand on the door handle. He couldn't budge it! Perhaps the ghosts were barricading him outside.  
And then, from behind him, he heard something that made his heart stop and his blood run cold. The most diabolical laugh he had ever witnessed rang across the balcony. It echoed in the deepest depths of the young mouse's soul.  
Turning, he saw the pale ghost of a weasel, wearing rusted, dented armor. "THIS PLACE...IS MINE..." he gurgled. "I PAID WITH MY LIFE FOR THIS PLACE. THIS PLACE IS MINE. AND ALL WHO COME HERE MUST PAY MY PRICE...MY PAIN...."  
Cold sweat covered the mouse as he unslung his Spirit Bow. Clenching his jaw, he fitted an arrow to the string. He knew the weasel was going to try to kill him.  
The spirit materialized to his right, and came spinning towards him, armed with a knife in each hand. As soon as it started moving, the mouse let fly an arrow. It went straight through the weasel with no effect.  
He had no time. Jumping to the right, the weasel's knives bit into his side. The spirit went spinning toward the dormitory wall and vanished. Looking down, he saw that again no physical damage had been done. The pain, however, was unbearable.  
He was snapped out of the haze caused by the pain, however, when he saw the ghost of the weasel materializing again, this time to his left. Wasting no time, he let fly an arrow. The spirit of the weasel fled.  
So that's it, the mouse thought to himself. I have to hit him as he's materializing...before the armor takes effect.  
Again, the ghost materialized, and again the mouse fired an arrow though him. Again, and again, and again the mouse hit the weasel, but it kept coming back for more.  
The weasel materialized and laughed. It was a gurgling, spine chilling laughter, though not as scary as when the mouse had first heard it, behind him. The mouse let fly with the Spirit Bow. It hit the ghostly weasel again. This time, however, the effect was much different.  
"NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN!" the weasel screamed, clutching his head. "HOW MANY TIMES MUST I BE DEFEATED?" Ethereal blood began to pour out of a hole in his chest armor, dissolving into red mist before it hit the ground. Soon, blood began to pour out of his mouth, and then his eyes.  
The mouse heaved, but as he hadn't eaten in a day, nothing came up. The mouse's eyes bugged out as his body desperately searched for something to throw up. Still, blood poured from the weasel until finally the disgusting spectacle of a specter hurled himself over the edge of the balcony, falling out into nothingness.  
Turning back toward the dormitories, the young mouse spotted something lying on the ground in front of the door. It was a piece of parchment, completely blank except for the letter R on the top. Pocketing it along with the three others he had collected, the mouse turned the door handle to the dormitories cautiously.  
Pushing the door open, he saw that all the ghosts had gone back to bed. Tiptoeing cautiously through the room, the young mouse slammed the door behind him. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he headed downstairs. 


	4. Rungtol's Account

Chapter 4: Rungtol's Account  
  
Once he was back in the main hall, the young mouse sat down for a breather. Where shall I go next? he demanded of himself. I've been everywhere. Hmm, well, perhaps I should go to the Gatehouse once again. Yes, I wasn't in there very long. Perhaps there's some sort of clue hidden amongst the decaying papers.  
Leaving the main Abbey, the young mouse stepped into the Gatehouse, where he sat down in the decaying old chair. He felt as though there were a presence in this room. But he was not afraid. The presence seemed almost friendly...like a fatherly paw on his shoulders in his darkest hour.  
Gnawing his lip, the young mouse took out the four identical papers he had managed to collect on his way around the Abbey. Perhaps there is some sort of clue hidden in them, he thought to himself.  
Digging them out of his pockets, he arranged them on the table so that he could see all four at the same time. Immediately, the old feather pen on the desk floated into the air and began to write on the papers.  
The young mouse was about to pull the pen down, but something told him not to. Instead, he simply sat and watched as the pen finished its task. Whatever the force that was controlling the pen was, it was an experienced writer.  
The script was strong and flowing, yet it had been written in the stretch of less than a couple of minutes. Again, the young mouse felt that friendly presence in the room. Curious, he bent down to read the first page of parchment. So engrossed was he by the tale they told that he didn't stop reading them until he had finished the whole thing not once but twice. They ran thus:  
  
R  
"Welcome to Soilran Abbey to Soilran Abbey, a place of peace and prosperity. Anybeast in need of help or healing may seek refuge within our walls, for Soilran Abbey is a place of safety. Safety that will last forever." This is the way I would have described our Abbey many seasons ago. But things have changed. The days of everlasting peace are long gone. Soilran Abbey is now a place of eternal pain and death.  
  
I am Rungtol, the recorder of Soilran Abbey. It was indeed a wonderful place to live. We had created in the image and spirit of Redwall, the Abbey to the far Northwest. But as you can see, things did not stay that way. Now, the spirits of my former brothers haunt this Abbey, forever put through horrible torment. We are all ghosts, and most of us are forced into malicious hostility.  
  
I have been watching you, my young friend. You already know most of this. I am fairly sure that there are two questions you wish to have answered more than anything. How the inhabitants of the Abbey were reduced to these horrible monstrosities, and how you can escape from this place. I may have answers for both, but I feel it would be best if I answered the first question first, as its answer is much more complicated and long- winded. Part of the cause was the invasion of a terrible vermin horde, but it all really began with a fox named Malazrael.  
R  
I cannot pretend to know everything about Malazrael. I do not know just how old he is, or how he came to command the powers he has. I do, however, know how he came into our concern. He was traveling with a horde of vermin, using some of his powers to pose as a seer. As they headed for Soilran Abbey, their first highly-populated target, he ran ahead and came to the Abbey about a day before the others.  
  
Malazrael pretended to be an old, tired traveler, and was received by the Abbey with open arms. But on the night of the horde's invasion, Malazrael began his evil works. He erected the first of two mantels in our Abbey's main hall. This mantel is infused with mystical runes, which keep the souls of the dead from leaving this place. But the vermin invaded a little earlier than Malazrael had predicted....  
  
Malazrael was unable to erect his second mantle by the time three Abbeybeasts had already died. The first was me...I had been working late in the Gatehouse, and I was the first one the hordebeasts met with. The second was our Cellarhog, also working late, who ran from the vermin but was killed in the Courtyard. The third was our Abbot who, by a stroke of freak luck, had died of old age at just the right time. Our spirits were bound to the Abbey, but we were unaffected by the second curse. The curse which caused the souls of the dead to come under the control of the terrible Malazrael!  
  
R  
The horde had invaded while most of us were sleeping. They rushed into the dormitory and quickly did most of the Abbeybeasts in as they slept. There were a few, however, that awoke. Several were fighting beasts, who defended the Abbey. One of them, our champion warrior, dueled with the horde's leader on the dormitory balcony, winning by stabbing him and causing him to topple over the edge. Sadly, he was killed soon afterwards.  
  
The other warriors retreated to the lower levels of the Abbey, taking refuge in the Armory. They fought valiantly, slaying many vermin, but eventually they were overcome as the horde poured into the Archery Range and slew the last of them. It was too late, though - Malazrael's runes had just begun to take effect. As the hordebeasts were about to leave the cellars, gloating about their victory, the ghosts of the Abbeybeasts rose up and tore into the flesh of the vermin. None survived.  
  
I am not sure why you have not been attacked with quite so much viciousness. Perhaps it is because it has been so long since any living creatures have walked here; perhaps it is because you are only one mouse. Whatever the reason, you are lucky to still be alive. And perhaps you can put an end to our misery. While the mantels originally bound us here, destroying them now would be useless. We are now being kept here by Malazrael's own power. He is the one directing our spirits into hatred and anger. He is siphoning something from our souls, keeping himself alive to rule a kingdom of deadbeasts.  
  
R  
If you want to leave this Abbey alive - or even dead - you'll have to kill Malazrael...but he will not be easy to find. Have you noticed a lack of corpses around the Abbey? That's because a crew of otters came here about twenty seasons ago, during the day (while our spirits "slept"), and buried us in a cemetery behind the Abbey, over the walled playground where the Dibbuns used to play. Malazrael has created a system of tunnels underneath, from which he controls many of our souls...and holds the Abbot's grave captive.  
  
You must travel under the cemetery and do battle with Malazrael. Then, you must free the Abbot's ghost, so that he may lead us all to the Dark Forest in peace. There is no direct entrance to the old playground...but there is a secret passageway. You must travel to the Abbot's study, and play the following notes on his organ:  
  
C D B G A  
  
Good luck, my friend. If you succeed, you shall have countless friends on the other side of existence....  
-Rungtol, Recorder of Soilran Abbey  
44 Seasons After His Death  
  
Gulping, the young mouse piled the parchments up and put them back in his pocket. The Abbot's study must have been that room with an organ up on the second floor. He knew what he had to do. Steeling himself, the young mouse left the gatehouse and entered the main building...he had to kill Malazrael! 


	5. Into the Grave

Chapter 5: Into the Grave  
  
Moving quickly so as to give himself less time to get scared, the young mouse made his way up to the room he presumed had once been the Abbot's study.  
It was very dark in the room; he could barely make out the keys on the organ as he sat down to play.  
Having had a few lessons when he was younger, the mouse knew exactly where the notes he had to play were. He ran his paw to the C, then the D, then the B, the G, and the A. The notes rang through the castle, and their eerie sound haunted the young mouse.  
He had no time, however, to go into a reverie at the melancholy sound. As soon as he had hit the last key, the young mouse felt the floor open beneath him. He was falling down, down, down a long, dark, spiraling chute.  
Finally, he hit the ground. Looking up, he realized he was outside. The recorder's ghost had been right: the secret passageway had led him out of the Abbey...into the cemetery grounds.  
Leaving the passageway's drop-off area, the young mouse headed towards a second set of gates. These ones led to the graveyard. Two statues sat on either side of the gates, and the air was thick with fog.  
Shuddering, the young mouse realized how full of those tormented souls this area would be. He thought he saw a squirrel in front of the gates, but then it vanished. That scared him even more. Steeling himself, he entered the graveyard.  
Upon entering, he met with rows upon rows of headstones. Reading one, he saw "Pawflash and Ambrose: Together in life, together in death". In front of that headstone was a hole. It seemed too convenient...perhaps Malazrael already knew he was here. It didn't really matter though...there seemed no alternative but to go down the hole and face whatever was lying in wait for him.  
Slowly and carefully, the young mouse lowered himself into the hole. He landed with a soft thud on the dirt in the underground tunnels. Two coffins were on either side of him. Who knows what'll happen if I venture too close to those, the mouse thought to himself. I'd best stay away.  
Moving straight ahead, the young mouse's paws clenched into fists...there was danger lurking around every corner, and he knew it. Through a series of dark and winding tunnels he ran, sometimes pursued by the demented spirits of the Abbeybeasts. Every time he rounded a corner, he expected to see Malazrael, waiting for him, poised to kill.  
Finally, he rounded one last corner. He found himself in a special clearing, with a stone at its back, upon which is engraved "Abbot's Crypt." Stepping inside, the way out was quickly filled in with soil.  
From behind him, the young mouse heard an eerie, otherworldly cackle. Turning, the young mouse saw the figure of a dark-clad fox materializing in the shadows. Holding a scythe in both paws, the fox pointed the weapon menacingly at the mouse.  
There was no doubt in the mouse's mind that this was Malazrael, the one creature capable of keeping souls from the Dark Forest.  
"You have intruded upon my Abbey," he said in a deep, distant- sounding voice. While his voice was every bit as terrifying as any of the other spirits that had spoken, his lacked the madness of a beast possessed. The young mouse could tell that this was, indeed, the master here.  
"These souls are mine. And so shall yours be. Arise, my slaves! Show this fool the power of Malazrael, the master of death!" The fox disappeared. The battle for the fate of Soilran Abbey - and all the souls thereof - had begun.  
  
In every corner of the room, there was a coffin. The young mouse gulped, imagining the thoughts on the minds of those pour beasts. The mouse figured they all consisted of one word: "Kill."  
Indeed that was what those beasts were thinking. Diving from the coffins, four at once, they made straight for the mouse.  
The young mouse knew that he had no time to fire his Spirit Bow. He scrambled away from the ghosts, managing to dodge their murderous fangs.  
Getting to his feet, he looked around. Then he dropped faster than a dead bird. Malazrael materialized, catching him dead across the midsection with his scythe. The young mouse rolled away, his vision hazy from the pain. He could feel the blood pouring out of an open gash across his midsection - Malazrael was alive. The damage had actually been done to his body.  
Acting too fast for his own mind, the mouse leaped to his feet, fitted an arrow to his Spirit Bow, and let fly.  
It hit the fox, who had raised his scythe to the sky to proclaim his victory. A shocked look on his face, the fox disappeared.  
The mouse tried to stay alert, but his vision was already almost gone. He could feel the ghosts diving for him, though, their evil was so tangible that he could sense it without seeing them. He rolled out of the way.  
This time, he knew Malazrael would attack. He leaped aside. Hearing the scythe rip viciously through the air, the mouse fired off another arrow towards the fox. He assumed it hit, because the scythe didn't swing again.  
  
Once more, the ghosts dived for him, and again, he rolled away. Malazrael changed up his timing just a bit and caught the young mouse on the shoulder, but he was past caring about pain. He simply rolled away and fired another arrow into the fox.  
It became monotonous. He did not know how many times he hit Malazrael. Time seemed to fade out of mind. His footpaws became numb. Still, he battled on stolidly; this was a fight he could not lose.  
At last, he fired a last arrow into the fox. Wounded in a dozen places, clothing stained with blood, the young mouse collapsed to the ground. Looking up, he saw the wicked fox before him. Waiting for the killing blow, the mouse saw something completely different. A shaft...one of his shafts...was protruding from the fox's chest.  
"NO!" he shouted, looking in disbelief at the wounded mouse before him. "I CANNOT DIE! I...I AM AFRAID...I...." Those were the last words that the fox Malazrael ever spoke. His scythe clattered to the ground, his cape fell around him, and he died.  
Just as the young mouse started to lie down and die, content with his salvation of all the souls in the Abbey, he was hurled from where he lay. He landed in front of a coffin with two torches - one on either side - around it. The mouse knew immediately where he was: the Abbot's tomb.  
A blue wisp hovered above the coffin. Suddenly, the lid flew off to reveal the body of a mouse...not the decaying, rotting corpse of one of the horrible inhabitants of the Abbey, but as a living beast. The wisp flew inside of the dead mouse. His eyes flew open. The young mouse let out a cry of surprise.  
"DO NOT WORRY," said the dead mouse. "YOU HAVE INDEED SAVED ALL OF US."  
The young mouse looked around. It was as though he was floating over a tranquil lake, with trees all around it. It was peaceful here. He could feel his wounds healing, his hurts fading away.  
"I ONLY BROUGHT YOU HERE SO YOU WOULD BE SURE OF OUR ULTIMATE FATE. I SHALL LEAD MY OLD FRIENDS TO THE DARK FOREST AT LAST. AS FOR YOU...WE ARE ETERNALLY GRATEFUL, BUT WE CANNOT DO MUCH FOR YOU NOW. EXCEPT FOR ONE THING...."  
In a flash, the peaceful surroundings dissipated. The young mouse was slammed back onto a path...a path that lead straight to the inn he had been searching for. The truth quickly dawned on him: after freeing the Abbeybeasts from Malazrael, the Abbot had shown him that they had really made it to the Dark Forest! And then he'd sent him back here!  
No one will believe this, the young mouse thought to himself. Then another realization hit him. Of course no one will believe this! They'll say I made it up or mistook a dream for reality.  
Checking his pockets, the mouse realized all of the objects he'd collected were gone; the Spirit Bow, the fishing rod, the parchments, the keys...all gone! Confused and depressed, the young mouse's pace slowed as he headed towards the inn. Perhaps he had been dreaming.  
But just as he began to think he had dreamed the whole thing up, the strong winds blew a piece of parchment in his face. The young mouse turned it over.  
Adorning the top was a single letter R, under which was written, in a firm, flowing script, the words "Thank you." A smile of complete content crossed the young mouse's face. Throwing the parchment to the winds from whence it came, he stepped through the door of the inn.  
Around a table by the fire, the only people still awake in the entire inn, were his three friends, a hare, a badger, and a squirrel.  
"What took you so long?" the badger asked.  
"Oh, nothing..." the young mouse replied, smiling to himself. "I've just had the most peculiar dream...." 


End file.
